


Nothing

by beefcakemish



Series: Misc. Drabbles [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x02 Coda, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 04:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20108995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beefcakemish/pseuds/beefcakemish
Summary: He feels nothing anymore. At least not since Michael trapped him in his own mind. He feels nothing, and it's slowly driving him mad.





	Nothing

Dean’s always been a tactile person. A brief hug, a clap on the shoulder, one-night stands, whatever he needed at the time to stop the itch under the surface. Slowly, too slowly in Cas’ opinion, the one-night stands ceased, and Dean found all he needed was Cas. It started as small touches to cure his injuries, and shoulders brushing though they stood in large spaces. But it turned into interlocked fingers in the front seat of the impala, strong hands kneading sore muscles, sweat-slicked skin providing delicious friction.

Now, there was nothing. The void was crushing him, and the ferocious itch under his skin was back. He would go mad here, trapped in his own mind, and he supposes that was exactly Michael’s plan.

By his estimate, it's been six months since that night in the church; since he last saw Sam and Jack, since he last saw Cas.

It took everything in him to walk away from Cas that night. Dean knew he was the reason for the heartbroken expression on Cas' face. His weakness was the reason for the hitch in Cas' voice as he pleaded with Dean not to say yes. They hadn't even gotten to say goodbye properly.   
  
In all honesty, he really has no idea how long it's been. For all Dean knows, it's only been a week. Michael took an early liking to torturing him, supplying him with an elaborate facade based off Dean's own memories. He concentrated especially on Cas, and Dean's ashamed to admit he gave up fighting much earlier than he should have.  
  
Everything felt so real the first time; his room, the bunker, Baby. They all looked the same, smelt the same, so similar Dean didn't even realize it was his imagination until Cas walked in.  
  
Cas climbed into their bed, and turned towards Dean, wrapping an arm around his middle, fitting his body against the curved edges of Deans. Except Dean felt nothing. He could hear Cas' steady breath in his ear, could see the hand tenderly placed on his stomach, but felt none of their usual warmth or weight. Hesitantly, he reached for Cas' hand with his own.  
  
Nothing. There was nothing.  
  
He could _see_ his hand touching Cas' arm, but he felt nothing.   
  
The decades of deep settled loneliness he’d felt prior to meeting Castiel should have prepared him for the ache he was feeling now, all this time later. He’d let himself get too comfortable with the way things were before, too comfortable with Cas, and now he was paying for it.

\--

Cas refuses to let Dean leave his sight after they get him back. Dean refuses any sort of contact between them, but he doesn’t protest when Cas remains close. It starts the same way it did before though, with small touches, and it grows until Dean can’t remember the itch, can’t remember the nothing.


End file.
